


Dead Men Tell No Tales

by Conxus



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Also my awful updating schedule needs to be a warning tag, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood and Gore, M/M, Mild Language, Oh wait I forgot a really important one, THERE'S NO NECROPHILIA DON'T WORRY, Well... not really, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-05-26 15:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6245221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conxus/pseuds/Conxus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donghae wasn't dead so it didn't make any sense that he was here. Deep down under the ground with skeletons and rotting corpses for friends. Well, not friends.</p><p>It was a bit complicated.</p><p>(Inspired by The Corpse Bride and my sister's wild ideas<br/>Also written to pay homage to all the great HaeKyu fics I've read from the past 'til now; once again thank you!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Heels dragging, Kyuhyun tried not to scowl too visibly, adjusting the dress over his legs and failing to leave the too long slit alone. Huffing, he looked up to the sky as if to curse his misfortune only to realize that the clouds looked awfully dark. Too dark. And he _really_ didn’t need rain right now.

It was Halloween and he was stuck dressed as a girl—with a wig and a dress and heels and _everything_ —just because he lost a small, teeny tiny bet. Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t have said that he could take the lot of them on in chess and win. But in his defence, who would have known that Youngwoon was some kind of chess prodigy?

Kyuhyun made a face and spit out the blonde strands that kept catching his tongue, looking away when he found a group of fairies and princesses staring at him. Ducking his head low, he picked up his pace and cursed the fact that his friends were utterly unimaginative, picking a graveyard for their rendezvous point. The graveyard wasn’t really within walking distance when he had to wear four inch heels. Even now, he had a sinking suspicion his ankles were about to fail him and he would go tumbling, dress be damned.

“Woah, look at that dress!” Kyuhyun’s eyes narrowed before he looked at the group of rowdy boys—they were younger than him, weren’t they?—wolf whistling and jeering at him from across the street. “Hey pretty lady, wanna come for a ride?” The car erupted with laughter and Kyuhyun clenched his hands into fists, his pride taking hits. He was in college and these _children_ were probably still in high school.

If he replied, they were going to know. His voice was anything but womanly and he wouldn’t have it any other way, but he could hardly fight four of them in heels. Especially not with his feet killing him. And so he forced himself to smile apologetically, shaking his head and feeling the wig smacking his neck and tangling with the feathers resting on his collar. His hands itched as he threw the strands over his shoulder, still not making any direct eye contact as he prayed for them to leave him alone. There wasn’t any time to deal with pubescent teenagers—he needed to get this dare over with so that he could go home and sleep. Or play StarCraft.

Thankfully after a few more catcalls, he was able to escape. And about time, too. His hands were sweating and his heart was running way too fast, not to mention his stomach was churning. Exhaling shakily, he looked around him once before quickly walking off.

The sky was slowly becoming darker and there were fewer kids around now, the streets slowly ending as he neared the forest. Whoever thought it was smart to have a road by the side of the forest was clearly wrong, Kyuhyun thought. The sidewalk had already ended and he was stuck walking on the asphalt because it was obviously better than walking on the dirt. Especially if it was going to start raining soon. He could hear the crickets chirping from within the darkness, but all he could think about was the chill. With the sun gone, goosebumps lined his skin and he couldn’t help but sneeze.

“Jerks,” he muttered to himself, thinking about his friends. “What kind of friends are they, making me walk to the graveyard alone? _I’m wearing heels!_ ” he shouted angrily. The graveyard wasn’t that far away now, and he hoped that one of them had heard him. After all, that wasn’t all they had him do—he had been forced to shave his legs too. And buy a curly blonde wig. And a red dress with feathers and a slit extending to his thighs. “ _I did all of this and you guys can’t even walk with me_?”

With his eyes screwed shut, the only indication he had of the incoming car was the headlights. The moment he opened his eyes was the moment his world went spinning, his ears ringing and his body—

His body felt numb.

He—he couldn’t move.

Opening his mouth, all he could do was cough, seeing the splatter of something dark hitting the asphalt. It was starting to rain, and he… what had happened? He was lying on the road, his cheek pressed to the ground and everything—god, his head hurt. The wheezing sound he could faintly hear was coming from him, and of all things to make his blood run cold, this was it. He was going to die. Like this.

“Oh no.”

The voice came from somewhere beside him, the door to the car wide open and the engine still running. Hope suddenly flooded him as he remembered he wasn’t alone. There was the driver, he wasn’t alone, he wasn’t going to die yet. The relief was almost enough to make him sob, thinking about his mother and his father, and even his sister. They wouldn’t have to cry over him yet, he was alive, he was going to be okay, he was going home.

Kyuhyun closed his eyes, trying to fight the wave of dizziness that suddenly hit him.

“Oh God, oh no. Oh no, no…”

The next time he opened his eyes, Kyuhyun could see only darkness. Pain suddenly shot up his leg as someone dragged him further, and he couldn’t help the strangled sound that escaped his throat. Mud clung to his clothes and the side of his face, making it hard for him to breathe.

The gasp from above him momentarily confused him. Where was the ambulance? Were they going to take cover in the forest?

“You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive—”

Kyuhyun groaned again when his arms dropped unceremoniously, hitting the ground with enough force to make him see stars.

“You can’t be alive,” someone sobbed hysterically. “I can’t—I don’t have enough money to—”

Panic started to set in again, but this time he couldn’t move. He could barely keep his eyes open but he knew that there was no help coming, no one was coming this time and he really was going to die like this. “Help,” he rasped, hoping, praying, begging for the driver to change their mind. Hoping that his friends were nearby enough to find the car, to investigate why he wasn’t there yet. “Guys,” he whispered, choking on his own blood. He could feel it dribbling out the corner of his mouth, smelling the earth mixing with the scent of iron. “Plea… please…” Youngwoon, Jungsoo—anyone. Where were they? Why weren’t they here to help him?

“I’m so sorry,” he heard as he managed to look up. The stranger—his killer, he was going to die, _oh god he couldn’t die yet_ —raised a rock over their head before swinging it down, making Kyuhyun’s world go black.


	2. Hypnagogia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh... I can explain...

“What’re you looking at?”

Donghae blinked once, only mildly surprised to see Hyukjae leaning over his lap, his face pressed close to the window Donghae had been staring out of. The forest blurred past, but it was hardly a forest anymore, not when most of the trees were gone to make room for more houses.

“Nothing,” he answered idly, pushing his friend back behind the steering wheel. “Watch the road.”

“There’s no one on it,” Hyukjae snorted, finally leaning back into his seat. The car smelled like him—like sweat and cheap takeaway and hours spent in the practice room. “Sure the place is busier now, but it’s still the same, huh? Swear it hasn’t changed since we were nine.”

Nine. Donghae remembered nine. Nine was when he was still embarrassingly attached to his brother and when his brother—no matter how much he really did care—was desperate to get rid of him. He remembered the boys Donghwa called his friends, remembered the smell of smoke and loud shouting. “Things have changed,” he argued mildly. His eyes followed a red car that rushed past them. “We have more houses now.”

“Yeah?” Hyukjae made a face—something between a grin and a grimace. “Maybe now they’ll stop calling it the countryside.” When Donghae’s house rolled into view, he jerked his chin towards it and stepped on the brakes, turning back to Donghae. “Remember I’m picking you up for the party tomorrow at five. That’s five in the afternoon, knucklehead.”

“I’ll remember,” Donghae replied in kind, punching Hyukjae on the arm. Twice. “I’m not dumb.” The car door opened and he stumbled out with his rucksack, filled to the brim and heavier than it should’ve been. Rolling his eyes, Hyukjae watched him slam the door and wondered why his one and only best friend had such a goofy grin for such a supposedly handsome face.

For Donghae, coming back home after a while always felt so strange—so foreign. It was as if the rooms in front of him only existed in his memories. And it was so oddly quiet too, void of all the hustle and bustle he was used to. His father wasn’t in the living room reading the morning paper, and his mother wasn’t in the kitchen, exasperation clear in her voice as she shouted for his brother to sit down for breakfast.

Because his brother had long moved out and his father was dead.

His heart hurt, and for a moment he thought he could feel needles pricking the back of his eyes. Standing at the door for a while, he felt the numbness climbing his skin and curling around his head, but eventually he was able to breathe. His eyes were still suspiciously wet, but Donghae kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling until the feeling disappeared. And then he moved on.

His room wasn’t as he left it, no doubt because of his mother’s efforts. The clothes he had left scattered on the floor were now neatly folded and tucked away in his closet, and his bed was done up neatly, covers folded just below creased pillows. The only place that was untouched was Donghae’s desk, still covered with notebooks and papers. Mock cases and textbooks lay open, most of the lines highlighted rather than not.

Donghae scoffed, remembering how much that had helped during his test.

Sighing loudly, he turned away and tried to forget, but of course—just his luck—his bag caught on the spine of a notebook that had been too close to the edge and his papers went tumbling. Donghae bit his tongue and swallowed back a curse. Throwing his bag onto his bed, he crouched and started to gather everything up.

Jill-Lyn Euto, eighteen, found dead at her apartment stabbed to death in New York, 2001. The article glared up at him from a stack of papers, stapled together neatly. Jane, Arnna, and Grant Beaumont met him on the next page; nine, seven, and four respectively. In Australia on the year 1966, they had disappeared without a trace.

Donghae flipped to the next page, holding his breath instinctively. He knew who was next. Had memorized it since he had been a kid, when his mother had insisted he be careful. Don’t go outside. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t walk around in the dark. This case was a little closer to home, so close, too close, and Donghae had been obsessed.

Kyuhyun Cho. Twenty-two. In university for a mathematics degree. Went missing on Halloween in the year 2002 when Donghae had been nine. There had been conflicting opinions on what he had been wearing that day—his parents had said a navy blue sweater over a white collared shirt and black slacks, but his friends had insisted he was wearing a red dress. When questioned, they had said there had been a bet in place, and that they had been waiting for him at a nearby graveyard. He never showed up. The weather that day had been cloudy with heavy rain in the evening. And as such, any traces of blood or foul play had been washed away.

Kyuhyun had been the very reason Donghae was in the police academy after going to college for his criminal justice degree. And really, Kyuhyun was responsible for that too.

For someone Donghae had never met, Kyuhyun sure was prominent in his life.

“Donghae?” He could hear the door open and the muffled tones of his mother. The crinkling of plastic bags meant that she had been grocery shopping.

“I’m here,” he called back, haphazardly picking up the rest of the papers before throwing them onto his desk. “Let me get those,” he said, running down the stairs to meet his mother and to relieve her of the weight he had left her with.

-

Dinner was a big affair. Usually, Donghae had a place he rented with Hyukjae closer to the academy they were both attending, so his visit home set off a chain of dominos.

Two dishes became three but, oh, that wasn’t nearly enough for her youngest son. And so that became six, much more than what Donghae could finish in one sitting. But that was perfect—why didn’t they call Donghwa to come join them? This of course meant that dinner didn’t end until eleven pm, and doing the dishes meant that Donghae wasn't free until eleven thirty.

"I've missed you so much," she had said once it was just them again. Her hands were so much smaller than he remembered, barely covering his. "I'm so glad you're here."

"It's not that far, mom." He had laughed despite the knives in his heart, smiling despite the voices in his head calling him a liar, a coward. "I'll be done soon. Then I can bother you every day after work!" He hugged her but she felt too small in his arms. He squeezed harder, unwilling to let go. As if she would disappear if he did.

After exchanging quiet and fond goodnights, Donghae found himself alone again.

-

Donghae opened his eyes. The ceiling looked back down at him, but his room was too stuffy. Too hot. He couldn't fall asleep this way—with his legs tangled with the covers and the pillow smelling like home, like his dad's favourite lemon laundry detergent and his mother's subtle perfume.

Because of this, the anxiety he worked so hard to keep in the deep corners of his mind started up like an itch. His room was too quiet. He couldn’t lay still. And all the while, this restlessness ran deep under his skin and jolted him to his feet. He needed to get out.

He nearly stumbled down the stairs, his feet moving sluggishly despite his nerves. There was no time to throw on a jacket, but just enough time to shove his feet into his shoes and throw open the door. Setting off on a run down the street, the lines of the sidewalk blurred with the road. The night air chilled the sweat on his back, but it made breathing easier—it kept his mind on the cold, the present, the cold, and oh god it was cold.

Donghae stopped, finally looking around. He was next to the forest, or what was left of it, houses behind him and on the other side of the street.

Each exhale sent out a cloud of white, and each inhale sent spikes of ice to his brain. Goosebumps lined his skin, and he thought he could feel the prickling sensation of eyes on his back. With a clearer mind, he knew that it was only his imagination.

Or maybe it was his instincts.

Just as he was about to turn back, the shadows within the trees moved and Donghae could see someone close to the edge of the forest. She was… filthy as if she had rolled down a hill wet with mud and twigs, the colour of her dress hidden under layers of brown. Unexpectedly worried, he squinted in the darkness and cupped his hands to his mouth.

“Hey!” Donghae could hardly recognize his own voice, his feet already taking him two steps ahead. “That place is dangerous at night!”

The figure froze. There was something… wrong with how still she was, as if she was used to holding her breath. Only the feathers by her collar fluttered lazily, tangling with long strands of blonde hair. It was so distracting, Donghae almost missed the way she turned in his direction, slow and calculated.

Like this, Donghae saw red, his breath catching in his throat. It was late; he was seeing things. Blinking hard, he looked again, feeling his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

That’s right. He—he was just tired.

Body held like wires strung taut, the figure didn’t move. Donghae was left staring at eyes as black as ink and a face smeared with blood just as dark. “Isn’t it a bit too early for Halloween?” he asked, slowly walking forward. He needed to prevent another accident, even if this person hated him for it. These conditions were bad—anything could happen on a dark night like this.

Maybe if he got close enough, he could coax her into going home until the sun came out.

“It’s too cold to just be wearing a dress,” Donghae continued calmly. “You should go home and get a jacket at least.” His teeth threatened to chatter, and he wished he could head home too. Soon, he told himself. Just a few more minutes and he would be warm again. “Wouldn’t this be more fun if your friends were with you? Text them and ask them to hang out tonight instead.”

He couldn’t think straight anymore, the cold freezing his brain and turning his lips blue. His teeth were chattering now, and the person still hadn’t said a word. “Look,” he said, getting to the point of exasperation, “please just go home and make both of our lives—”

Donghae was close enough now. In the middle of the road, his legs dragged him to a stop, his eyes unable to leave that face. That face.

His mouth went dry.

Donghae knew that face, and he knew it well.

“Kyu…hyun?”

Donghae took an involuntary step back. This was a dream—he was dreaming about Kyuhyun because he was home again, and home was where Kyuhyun was. Was. Kyuhyun was dead. Had been dead for ten years. No… fourteen? This wasn’t Kyuhyun.

But… what proof did they have that Kyuhyun was dead?

“I can’t believe it,” Donghae said in a daze. This was too much—he wasn’t prepared. “I can’t believe you’re still alive.” 

Blank features suddenly came alive, twisting into something scarily inhuman and filled with far too much rage. As if he suddenly remembered how to move, Kyuhyun jerkily straightened. And then he snarled.

It only took a second to blink.

And it only took a second for Kyuhyun to suddenly be there, in the middle of the road with his fingers feeling like ice around Donghae’s wrist.

“Why?”

And his voice was smooth, like honey and chocolate. But there was a rasp that shouldn’t have been there, like—like his throat was raw from screaming.

“Did you want to kill me again?”

Kyuhyun’s grip was hard enough to snap Donghae’s wrist, but he couldn’t feel it—he couldn’t feel anything but his heart pounding in his chest. He felt like he was half awake, the rest of him lost in a thick fog. Voice dropping to a murmur, Donghae tried to blink the fog away. “You’re… dead?”

Kyuhyun dragged Donghae closer to the forest, ignoring how Donghae instinctively dug his heels into the ground. “Wouldn’t you know best?” he hissed. A few more steps and they were in between the trees, leaves being crushed underfoot. “Let me remind you how it went.”

The ground was still soft from yesterday’s rain, but it was slowly freezing over now. That didn’t stop Kyuhyun from dragging him deeper into the forest until they reached a deep pit of mud. The earthy smell hit Donghae’s nose, but there was something else there that he couldn’t name.

Without warning, he was pulled in.

Kyuhyun’s eyes were still just as black as they looked in his newspaper clippings, gleaming dangerously in the darkness. Donghae needed to get away—to escape. His other hand grabbed at the edge of the pit, only to pull away chunks of mud and grass, too soft to hold his weight. Panicking, he started to wheeze, eyes wildly darting around. They were sinking—no, Kyuhyun was pulling him down and he was up to his shoulders in mud already. Kyuhyun’s face was half gone, his nose and mouth under the mud, but his eyes were still on Donghae’s, burning and burning with things Donghae didn’t understand.

Tilting his head back was only going to buy him a few seconds—

Oh god, he was going to die.

Donghae was going to die because Kyuhyun’s ghost was going to kill him.

The mud was unpleasant over his mouth, his nose flaring as he inhaled as much air as he could.

Kyuhyun was gone, but Donghae could still feel fingers digging into his wrist.

With one last breath of air, Donghae plunged under and waited to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry... is there anyone left to see this...?  
> (Maybe only Olympic breath holders...)
> 
> JOKES ASIDE, I actually did write start writing this chapter right after I posted the prologue, but I wasn't satisfied with it so I let it sit in my folder for a few, uh, months. Like--like pickling cucumbers. Because pickles are better, right? But I just realized that HALLOWEEN IS AROUND THE CORNER so I went back to it and straightened a few wrinkles out after writing the other half of the chapter.
> 
> And here we are.


	3. Don't Regret It

This—this wasn’t one of his best moments.

Kyuhyun could feel the new mud that had somehow gotten stuck in his throat clogging his lungs and distorting his voice. Thumping his own chest, he coughed and watched as the mud landed by his feet next to the body he had dragged down. He hadn’t touched it—not since they had arrived.

Gingerly, he tucked the blonde strands of his wig behind his ear, his hand shaking. All he did was get his own revenge—he _deserved_ this after everything that had happened. He _needed_ this to move on.

Right?

“Murderer,” he spat out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. This was the only way he could convince himself what he did was right. But then his mind supplied helpfully, _you too_ , and the sickening lurch he felt in his stomach had nothing to do with the mud. “God, fuck, okay—it doesn’t count if you’re dead.” And then he had to stop his hand from running through his hair—wig, goddamn it—again for the thousandth time. He’d think that after a couple of years, the habit would have disappeared, but no. No, he still had to physically stop himself from making it into more of a rat’s nest than it already was.

Kyuhyun coughed again, and he used it as an excuse to do something with his hovering hand. His palm came away from his mouth dirtied, but Kyuhyun was long used to this, wiping it offhandedly on his dress. “Did I do something wrong?” he muttered to himself. He didn’t feel any different, and the barren trees weren’t transforming into glowing white branches with golden leaves yet. No angels came down to serenade him, blowing trumpets and showing him a staircase to heaven. Or redemption. _Something_.

He was sure that this would have been enough for him to move on—revenge usually did that for people. “Look God, if you’re listening then—”

A loud, hacking cough cut him off.

“You’re not serious,” Kyuhyun said, looking up at the foggy sky. This was God playing a prank on him, wasn’t it? “You’re telling me to kill him again?” He snorted. “Some benevolent God you are.” But despite his words, Kyuhyun dragged his feet over to the human’s convulsing body, ignoring the wet sound of retching. “Why couldn’t you stay dead?” Like it was hard.

Glassy brown eyes darted up to Kyuhyun’s face, unfocused and disoriented. And his lips moved despite the way he gasped for air—as if he wanted to speak and breathe at the same time. It was like looking at a wounded animal that knew it was going to die, and Kyuhyun didn’t like it, but he needed to do it. _He deserved this_.

Kyuhyun kneeled down and reached out with the intent to kill for the second time that night, his mouth twitching to form the word ‘sorry’ before he could stop himself.

“Woah-o, what’s this?” Pointed shoes got in Kyuhyun’s way, connected to a pair of legs, a body, and overall, a very amused cat-boy. “Rule twenty-seven! No interference with human affairs, especially in terms of life…”

Looking up, Kyuhyun frowned at the glowing green eyes and the sharp canines that glinted, catching what little light there was. A straight brow arched up, and Kyuhyun glowered because he knew what the cat was waiting for.

“Or death,” he muttered with long suffering reluctance.

“Right?” Heels clicking, he turned away from Kyuhyun and looked down at the pitiful human. “Which means this has to be a misunderstanding, right?” He didn’t look over his shoulder, but Kyuhyun could sense the thinly veiled threat under that cheery tone. “Because breaking any of the rules means that you go _straaaaight_ to hell.” There was a pause. “Or get turned to dust. Whichever is more convenient for me.”

“It—” Kyuhyun and the cat-boy flinched, eyes flicking down to the human who had spoken—or had tried to. “Wasn’t him. I—” And here, the human was interrupted by another hacking cough that shook his shoulders and threw him off balance. “Grabbed onto him,” he finished with a rasp.

Kyuhyun felt dread running up his spine. What was this stupid human doing? This—was he trying to save him? But Kyuhyun had tried to kill him—he could see the bruise forming around the human’s neck now, a stark reminder if he ever needed one. Frozen, Kyuhyun could see green eyes on him in his peripheral vision, piercing and prickly.

“That so?”

Kyuhyun would have swallowed thickly if he was still alive—a telltale giveaway.

Thank God he wasn’t.

“Yeah,” he answered, avoiding both the human and the cat-boy’s eyes.

Thin lips curled up before the green eyes were off of him, and then he could finally relax, his teeth digging into his lip. That had been too close—he had been _this close_ to becoming dust. And it was all thanks to the human.

Meanwhile, the human in question had sat up, hand braced against the cold ground to keep himself upright. His other hand was clenched tightly and he looked ready to defend himself if it came to it.

Kyuhyun could, well, respect that.

“You shouldn’t have done that, you know?” The cat-boy tsked as if he was talking to a child. “Living things aren’t allowed here. But anyways—” Kyuhyun had always been uneasy at how fast the cat’s mood changed, looking warily at the warm grin he was now sporting, “—what’s your name?”

The human took a while, finally looking more focused and less dazed. Maybe the lack of oxygen had got to him more than Kyuhyun thought. “I’m Donghae,” he finally answered, glancing at Kyuhyun. _Huh_. What was that about?

“Well, Donghae, you can call me Chen, the section chief.” The cat-boy bat one of his russet coloured ears with a hand, his tail flicking to and fro behind him. “You could say I keep the peace here. Welcome to Section Six, otherwise known as Grudge Town.” Abandoning normalcy, Chen whacked Kyuhyun’s arm with his tail and grinned. “Since Kyuhyun is partly responsible for why you’re here, he’s going to be the one to take you back upstairs. Any questions? No? Good.”

“Wait, wait. Hold on,” Donghae cut in. “Are you both dead?”

“Well aren’t you rude.” Chen rolled his eyes and nudged Kyuhyun again. “So, Kyuhyun, why don’t you tell him?”

“Yes.” Kyuhyun’s answer was clipped. “We’re dead.” He thought it had been obvious, but Donghae was slower than he looked.

“Then how—that isn’t a cat-eared headband? How are you moving it?” Donghae pushed himself back a few inches, his eyes never leaving Chen’s face. “Just because you die doesn’t—that doesn’t mean you grow cat ears and a tail.”

“You do if it’s a part of your grudge,” Kyuhyun answered before Chen decided he didn’t like Donghae. A save for a save. “So… for example, the person you have a grudge on said you looked like a rabbit because of your buck teeth. You might grow ears and a tail or just get the extra-large buck teeth. It gets worse the more you’re conscious about it.”

Donghae didn’t look like he believed him. “What?”

“Or maybe you really hate how half your guts are hanging out and partying—look; I’m just saying it how it is, alright?”

“It’s our punishment,” Chen said quietly from beside him. His tail was touching the floor, and his ears were flicked back. “Because we’re letting the grudges rule our lives—well.” He laughed humorlessly. “Existence.” Shrugging, he spun around using the balls of his feet. “But you get used to it. Also, it’s rude to point out, so remember that! Oh—” Suddenly, he squinted into the distance, his eyes glowing green. “I have to go now. Take him back upstairs by tonight, Kyuhyun! Or you’re going to be dust anyways.” Grinning widely, Chen waved goodbye and then bounded away. It didn’t take long until he disappeared into the thick fog, leaving the two of them alone.

Kyuhyun didn’t waste any time.

“First things first, you’re going to follow me without saying a word, and we’re going to get you back to the land of the living—before the sun rises—if it kills me. Literally.”

Donghae’s lips twisted downwards. “I’m not going to just blindly follow you,” he argued, getting to his feet. Kyuhyun only smirked when he saw how short Donghae really was. “You and I both know that it’s not my fault I’m here.”

Kyuhyun shushed him urgently, glancing in the direction Chen had left in. When no shadows came leaping out from the fog, he allowed himself to relax. “If you go saying that everywhere, your efforts will go to waste,” he muttered with a scowl. Did Donghae want to eternally destroy him or not? “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but there isn’t a lot of air down here. The more time we waste…” He left the sentence hanging deliberately, turning on his heel and walking off in the direction of the town after a pause.

“Can’t we go back the same way we came in?” he heard Donghae ask, and he had to refrain from snorting.

“Oh yeah, sure. Let me just fly us both up to the ceiling we can’t even see and shove you back into the mud pit we came in from. You definitely won’t die this time.” Kyuhyun didn’t bother looking back, rolling his eyes hard. “I wonder where I put my wings.”

Donghae went quiet, probably contemplating whether or not Kyuhyun was serious. What an idiot. “That was sarcasm,” he added before Donghae could ask.

After that, the conversation didn’t continue—he was good at that; offending people.

In the silence, Kyuhyun’s heels clicked on the uneven stone walkway, echoing between them. The air was uncomfortable and tense, and god, what was Donghae thinking about in that living, breathing body of his? This was unwarranted torture.

“Why did you—” And though he started off strong, Kyuhyun couldn’t help the way his voice dropped to a murmur, guilt prickling over him like cold air over his bones. “Lie?”

He was met with silence: even Donghae’s footsteps were gone now.

“Hello?” Annoyed, Kyuhyun turned around and saw Donghae a few steps away. “That wasn’t your cue to stop walking.”

“You’re welcome,” Donghae answered out of the blue, and Kyuhyun made a face. It wasn’t like—he didn’t say thank you or anything. And the human actually genuinely meant it, too.

“You’re welcome right back,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can’t just go around asking the Section Chief about his grudge; you’re lucky I was there.”

It was Donghae’s turn to frown. “I didn’t ask him about his grudge.”

“You might as well have,” Kyuhyun shot back, walking over to grab Donghae with his left hand. They needed to keep walking, so he tugged Donghae forward. Eventually, they met the black spires that made up the gate, narrow and stretching high, but not high enough to reach their sky. “Don’t look at anyone for too long. Don’t lag behind.” Reaching out, Kyuhyun pulled the gate open and ignored the deafening screech of rusted metal. “Don’t let go.” To punctuate his point, he squeezed Donghae’s hand tightly.

“You keep telling me what to do,” Donghae said, but he didn’t immediately yank his hand back. “And I get that you know what you’re doing, but I’m not _dumb_.”

Kyuhyun paused. Donghae was dressed like he had just gotten out of bed, his hair and cheeks as muddy as his white shirt. His sweatpants were stained too, and in a style Kyuhyun would never be caught dead wearing. His black eyes finally flicked down to Donghae’s shoes, and he could see that they were worn and dirty even without the mud. “Could have fooled me,” he said coolly, letting go of Donghae’s hand.

At this point, Kyuhyun had already realized he blamed Donghae for the situation they were in. And that wasn’t fair—it wasn’t Donghae’s fault Kyuhyun was already so blinded by his grudge that he couldn’t even think. It was his own damn fault and he wanted to blame someone else—someone who happened to look like everything he could have ever wanted in a person. And somehow, that made it worse.

It was irrational, but he couldn’t stop it.

Kyuhyun didn't wait, stepping through the gate. The town was quieter than usual, the fog lingering untouched and floating low over the cobblestones. Fireflies lazily surveyed the town trapped in high lampposts, but as he swept by, they flickered and dimmed. Donghae was close behind, pausing now and then to look around. The houses were normal enough, made of wood and brick and cement. Sure, there were holes here and there because they didn’t have enough bricks or planks, but all in all, Kyuhyun thought they looked pretty good. They couldn’t get choosy with what landslides gave them, after all.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kyuhyun saw something darting behind an old barrel. Reaching behind him blindly, he tried to catch Donghae’s shirt, hand, _whatever_ —before it was too late. “Hey,” he whispered over his shoulder, eyes still not leaving the crouching figure curiously peeking over. “Let’s go—”

A muffled sound behind him caused him to turn around, and Kyuhyun wondered how he had ever thought sneaking a living, breathing human through Grudge Town was going to be easy.

Donghae made another strangled sound in his throat as something that looked like an anatomical model prodded his cheek—Kyuhyun took pity on him.

“Alright, that’s enough touching,” he said, getting in between them. “I know you miss your skin, Matthew, but touching his isn’t going to make yours grow back.”

Matthew huffed, but it sounded like a soft wheeze, blood starting to gush from every crevice of his body. “Real original,” he managed to say before lumbering off, leaving red puddles in his wake.

Kyuhyun turned back around. “Now, Donghae—”

“So tell me about how our technology has advanced. What do they have now?” Donghae’s eyes flicked from between the deceivingly normal newcomer and Kyuhyun. “I heard they have something called a ‘tablet’ out—a mini computer you can carry around in day to day life. Not quite a laptop, but more convenient.”

“Uh, yes.” Kyuhyun could see how Donghae tried very hard not to stare at the hole in Nao’s head—namely right through his left eye.

Kyuhyun pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. “Nao…” he started to say.

“I see we are unable to have a full conversation in which we can exchange information at this moment,” Nao continued as if Kyuhyun hadn’t spoken at all. “I recommend you spend the night at my abode.” His eye slid over to meet Kyuhyun’s as he continued, “I’m afraid your current companion’s house is in a state of continuous chaos.”

Scowling, Kyuhyun opened his mouth to retort, his right arm and left leg tingling. He wasn’t—his house wasn’t a mess!

“I’m not going to be staying,” Donghae interjected, pulling Kyuhyun beside him. “I need to leave before the night ends.” Expectantly, he looked at Kyuhyun with his liquid brown eyes—seriously, what were they made of?—and added, “Right?”

For some reason, meeting Donghae’s eyes had gotten harder. “Right,” he forced himself to say, and the small grin that he got in return almost made the bones of his leg weak. Clearing his throat, he tried to get a grip on himself and _whatever_ that was. “So excuse us because we need to get to the Tower as soon as possible.”

And with that, Kyuhyun dragged Donghae through the foggy streets, running as fast as his bony legs could go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's Halloween (I still have 30 minutes of the day, okay) I finished writing the next chapter! Because why not update a fic that takes place on Halloween day on Halloween? Ingenious! Again, sorry for the long intervals in between (and yes, I'm still getting my ass kicked by all of my courses, thank you for asking). I hope this update was alright? I mean, I hope it doesn't sound rushed?
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos you guys left! I'm still crying tears tbh...
> 
> On that note, have a Safe and Happy Halloween!


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